Capture and Break
by xKesshoux
Summary: Stolen away from Orochimaru's lair by the one he despises most, Sasuke faces something he never thought he would. The Tsukiyomi can be used for things other than torture, and he lies broken in the aftermath of something he was made to beg for. ItaSasu.


General disclaimer of not-owning applies. This was actually an RP done between my girlfriend and I for a forum that doesn't exist anymore. But oh well. It became a lovely, lovely fic that I personally enjoy to pieces. I suppose warnings should include slight bondage, mild torture, brain breaking (which goes along with the Tsukiyomi, really), and semi-non-con. Somebody once told me it also involves humiliation, so I might as well put that here too. Long story short, I hope you like it, and if you don't, don't read it!

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Itachi walked down the hall from the bath room, kimono wrapped tightly around him to keep out the evening chill. His black hair fell over his shoulders and around his face, damp but no longer dripping. A hot bath was his favorite way to forget about a rough mission. Of course, a hot bath was the cure for ANYTHING, in his opinion. Well... almost. Some things required a little bloodletting. Or a lot. It didn't matter. Itachi shivered and rubbed his arms, feet making soft noises on the wood in the vacant hallway.

Arriving at his room, he slid open the door, entering the warmth. It was his sanctuary from the world, from those who hunted him and those he was forced to work with. A far cry from the spartan decor of his bedroom in his childhood home, this room was decorated with many screens and free-standing curtains. A low table usually sat in the middle of the room, though now it was propped up on it's side against the wall. Instead of it lay a white futon and small pillow, and a terribly out of place figure in a strange outfit under the light blue blanket. The figure was bound by heavy rope and chain; tied to the wrist chains were chakra-sealing ofuda.

Itachi didn't know whether to be frustrated or relieved that his captive had not awoken. On one hand, he did want to sleep, but on the other hand, he wanted to interrogate his prisoner. Though the Akatsuki were not in the habit of keeping prisoners in their quarters, this was a special case, and Itachi had put a lot on the line in order to capture him. He didn't really trust the other Akatsuki to not bother his prisoner anyway.

He turned up the small heater in the room, one of the few Western items he cared for, and crouched down next to the figure, cold stare unwavering. He still wasn't quite sure what possessed him to do this. He hated being beholden to anyone, and it was bad enough he had to answer to Sir Leader. However, he was disgusted with the alternative.

_I just can't win, can I?_ Itachi mused, frowning inwardly, his actual expression unchanging.

A small groan left the captive's throat and he stirred. Coal black eyes suddenly shot open, and he jerked back, instantly struggling despite how weak and sore he felt. Waking up completely bound was one thing. Waking up completely bound and seeing Uchiha Itachi was something entirely different.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD _LET ME GO SO I CAN KICK YOUR ASS!_"

It was a really good thing Itachi didn't have one of his all-too-common headaches, or he might've hit the pale, too-pretty face that spouted profanities at him. "I have some questions for you."

Sasuke might as well have been snarling. "Let me _GO_!" he repeated, with no less venom than before. The Sharingan had flared to life in the short space between "yo" and "u", and if it did anything it really only served to intensify the glare he shot at his older brother. "I'll _kill_ you!" Even if his time with Orochimaru had effectively taught him to kill his emotions, _nothing_ could completely erase the cloud of irrationality that came with this red-tinted hatred.

"You couldn't kill me if I gave you a knife and bared my throat. Why did you go to Orochimaru?" Itachi deadpanned, making himself comfortable on the tatami. The Sharingan didn't scare him. He'd heard those words and seen those hateful eyes enough times that it didn't even make him flinch.

"Why should I answer to you?!" the younger shot back, putting on a bit of a sneer, despite the fact that it was made completely void due to his current position. Why did it even matter why he'd gone to Orochimaru? Why the hell was Itachi _asking_ him?

"You went to him because he told you he would give you power. Isn't that it?" Itachi leaned closer, a cold smirk tugging at his lips. "You wanted him to give you power so you could kill me. However..." his eyes narrowed, and he leaned closer, his breath puffing against Sasuke's lips. "He lied to you, otouto."

Sasuke somehow managed to scoot back nearly a foot in little over two seconds flat, despite being bound. His glare was still in place, though it may or may not have been slightly more unsure. "Let me go and maybe I can _test_ that..." he hissed, trying to scoot back even further.

"I just took a bath. I don't want you messing up my hair or trashing my room." Itachi sat back a little, his kimono falling open a little, eyeing the boy's attire. "So how did he convince you to wear _that_?"

The younger Uchiha continued to glare, trying to work loose his bonds. "Why am I _here_?" he responded, avoiding the question of his attire completely. He _really_ didn't want to get into that. Especially not with _Itachi_.

"Would you rather I left you at the gates of Konoha to be tried and executed as a missing-nin?" Itachi asked, smirk growing ever so slightly.

"I would have rather you _left me alone_," Sasuke spat, inwardly cursing at his inability to free himself. "Why _didn't_ you?" He was starting to get mildly uncomfortable, what with his brother acting like he was. There had to be some sort of trick to this, some _reason_ for it. He was probably being _toyed_ with; it wasn't as if he wasn't used to it by now.

"I knew..." Itachi muttered, leaning closer, using one hand to hold himself up. The boy's anger was amusing. "I knew what you did with him, to repay him for 'training' you.. I knew what he did to you..." Their gazes locked, and he drew closer, expression unchanging. "You sold yourself to him..."

As much as he wanted to tear his eyes away, Sasuke kept Itachi's gaze almost defiantly, even as he kept trying to scoot back. "I did _not_..." he hissed, barely above a whisper. "Why does my personal life matter to _you_ in the first place!"

"You forget that we are ninja too, first and foremost.. I have access to the best surveillance in the world, Sasuke. It was hard to restrain myself from storming the compound the first time I saw the evidence, but I had to wait.." Itachi kept his emotions perfectly in check. His expression, posture, and voice were cold and still, unwavering, unshaken. "You forget yourself. You are an Uchiha, heir and master of one of the most powerful dojutsu kekkei genkai in the world. You are, or were, the pride of Konoha, their best rookie genin. You've disgraced yourself, your village, and most importantly, your family name, and me as well. I did not want to allow it to continue. Besides.." Itachi let his eyes slip into the Sharingan, the memory filling him with rage and disgust. "he only wanted you for _this_. Nothing else. You were nothing more to him than a kekkei genkai to steal and a little boy to fuck."

There were no words the younger Uchiha could throw back at that. If Itachi was bluffing, he had no way of knowing, and thusly couldn't call him on it. Denial wasn't going to get him anywhere, either. All he could do was channel every last ounce of his hatred of this entire situation into his glare.

"You disgust me, Sasuke.. how foolish, how naive can you be?" Itachi narrowed his eyes, drawing away and gazing down at the boy. "Admit it. Admit you were used. Admit you were foolish. You fell for everything I told you, and everything Orochimaru told you. You're probably only minimally stronger than you were the last time we met, when I tried to capture the Kyuubi."

"Take off these ropes and I'll show you you're _wrong_..." Sasuke hissed, twisting his body in a futile attempt at freeing himself. Oh, what he would've given for his sword about now. Or a kunai. Or a shuriken for that matter. His wrists were already chafed, but if he could just get the ropes loosened a bit...

Itachi pondered the demand. On one hand, he was sure he could beat the unholy shit out of Sasuke should he start causing trouble. On the other hand, there was a chance he did know a couple new, more destructive jutsu and would destroy his room and wake the other Akatsuki. He eyed the boy, finally settling on one idea, and smirked. "I think I enjoy seeing you bound like this before me, though.."

"Huh?" was the near instant reaction, the younger Uchiha's brain skittering off in search of just what Itachi could have meant by that and coming back with less than favorable results. "_What_?" he corrected himself, tugging on the ropes again. That couldn't possibly have meant what his mind was telling him. He'd most _definitely_ been spending too much time around Orochimaru.

The transition from hatred to wide-eyed confusion and false innocence was striking. Itachi smirked, tilting his head, his kimono still open in a v down to his waist. How many women had he seduced in this very room.. the idle thought intrigued him. What limits did his skills have, anyway? "Did you lose your hearing when under Orochimaru as well?"

"Of course not!" Sasuke spat, venom back in his eyes, though wary. He didn't like that smirk. At. All. The places his mind went with this were _appalling_ and _unthinkable_, and he was becoming rapidly more uncomfortable being in this situation. He knew Itachi was a twisted bastard, but something like _that_? He inwardly shuddered, subconsciously still trying the ropes even though he knew it was pointless.

Itachi didn't respond, just smirked more. The memory of the evidence of Orochimaru's demented actions disturbed him, but also filled him with a sort of possessive desire. He knew such things were typically seen with revulsion, but in truth.. he'd never really felt much connection to his family, and the connection with Sasuke was distant in the first place, and now frayed with time and emotions. The boy was little more than a former housemate. Now that he was grown, Itachi couldn't help but appreciate how nicely Sasuke had turned out. He let his eyes wander over the younger man, chuckling.

"Why the fuck are you looking at me like that..." Sasuke nearly hissed, the barest hint of revulsion in his voice. It was clearer on his face, but Itachi's eyes weren't _looking_ at his face. Some distant part of him tried to reason that these eyes were far better than the slitted yellow of the snake sennin. The thought alone made him feel sick.

"I can look at you however I want. You are, after all, my prisoner." Itachi replied smoothly. He finally reached over, first cupping Sasuke's cheek, then trailing his fingers down to a pale, muscular chest. His fingernails traced the lines and definition, as he made short notes to himself. _He has worked out quite a bit.. at least he hasn't completely wasted his time.. he's grown up very well._

Again, the younger tried to squirm away from the touch, not liking how close his brother was and his own inability to fight back. Itachi had a real knack for making Sasuke feel weak and helpless, but this had to top it all. "You're _sick_..." he breathed, again wishing the ropes weren't so damn _tight_.

"It's hard to hate and kill your blood relations without being sick." Itachi chuckled again, his fingers finding a nipple that he tugged at lightly. _Let's see how much he really learned..._

"_Bastard_!" Sasuke hissed. "You goddamn--" he cut himself off with a sudden gasp, back arching slightly. The response had been automatic, _trained_ and he cursed himself for it, cursed Orochimaru for it. He had to remember that the hands touching him now were a completely different kind of twisted, that he didn't _have_ to make those sounds because they weren't going to get him _anything_ this time.

Itachi recognized this reaction as being identical to the reaction on the video. It was hard, though, to tell if this was natural or learned. He didn't want Orochimaru's leftovers. He wanted Sasuke, without the snake's influence and training, but with the knowledge gained only from experience. Painted nails dug into rosy flesh, twisting just slightly, experimentally. "Goddamn what, Sasuke?"

The boy forced back his automatic reactions, a slight hiss escaping his lips. "Bastard," he spat, glaring. "Fucking sick son of a bitch!" he snarled, body twisting in some attempt to get _away_ from that touch. He'd done the same with Orochimaru, though he'd actually been able to fight back at that time. Back then it had been 'if you don't, I won't make you stronger...' that had stopped his struggling, but he knew there would be no such ceasefire in this case.

"You're not any less twisted and sick, Sasuke. After all, I've seen what you can do with that profane mouth." Itachi was beginning to enjoy this, which was odd. He didn't typically like teasing and torturing sexually. Perhaps it was the hatred/indifference thing between them that made this more exciting. He released the nipple, fingernails dragging across the boy's skin to the other side and repeating the actions, just a little harder.

A furious blush crossed Sasuke's cheeks and he cursed himself for that as well. He clenched his fists where they were bound behind his back, focusing on the way the ropes dug into his skin and the way his wrists were pressing against his spine rather uncomfortably rather than the way Itachi's touch felt. Biting his tongue, he stubbornly gave no other reaction.

That blush was all Itachi needed, though. _It's working,_ he thought, quite pleased with his progress. "I wonder how much of it was Orochimaru, and how much was you, in those tapes. I wonder if perhaps, in some sick way, you enjoyed what he did to you." He remarked, tugging the abused nipple roughly.

"Like hell I did!" Sasuke snarled, ignoring the slight twinge of pain in favor of another glare. Sure, viciously denying it probably made it seem as if he were in denial, but the thought of _enjoying_ that pervert's touch just drew that kind of reaction from him. He honestly wasn't sure whether the thought of Orochimaru's touch or his brother's made him feel more sick at the moment.

"I can believe _that_. He disgusts me too." Itachi released the nub, sliding his hand up Sasuke's chest and down his arm. "Of course he went after you, when he realized he could never hope to have me. But let's not dwell on that. Why were you so naive as to believe he would ever teach you, and why did you let him put you in _that_?"

"He _did_ teach me," the younger Uchiha hissed, ignoring the second half of the question and filing away the rest of his brother's words to think on later. Right now, he was trying not to think of what would come next.

"Teach you to suck him off, probably. You still haven't answered my question. Did he put you in that, or did something compel you to wear that willingly?" Itachi pushed the white robe-like garment down Sasuke's arm, fingers tracing the ropes on his wrists.

Sasuke didn't bother giving that first bit a response, forcing his clenched fists to relax. "Why the hell does it matter anyway?" He honestly didn't understand why Itachi seemed to be so fixated on that subject.

The smirk grew just a bit, almost into a grin. "You look like a whore." Itachi murmured, holding Sasuke still as his other hand moved to dance down the younger Uchiha's chest, finally reaching his waist and undoing the rope Sasuke wore there.

So that was it. The younger huffed slightly, fists clenching again as he returned to glaring at his captor. No. The outfit _hadn't_ been his idea. At all. There hadn't been a whole lot to choose from, though, and he considered this a far cry above what _else_ the snake had to offer in the way of clothing. The most he could do was insist that the Uchiha crest be on the back of his shirt, and even that wasn't much at all. When Itachi's fingers found and undid the rope, he wished once more he still had his sword, turning his head to stare pointedly at the nearest wall.

Well, that wasn't any fun at all. Itachi wanted to see the boy's expression, the hateful glares, and hear the cursing and screams that he could summon from Sasuke's lips. His hand left pale thin wrists, moving up to grasp Sasuke's chin and force their eyes to meet. Reaching behind him, he drew a kunai out of a small chest next to a screen, his expression betraying nothing of his intentions. "You have nothing to say to that? Perhaps you _are_ a whore and just too afraid to admit it."

"Your opinion doesn't matter to me," Sasuke responded coldly, eyeing the kunai. Memories slowly rose to the surface, of blood spilled in the Tsukiyomi and the slightest brush of lips against his ear. He shivered slightly, remembering how pathetic he'd been back then to dwell on something like that, how his resolve had wavered for even a fraction of a second.

Itachi drew the kunai up Sasuke's chest, to his throat. reveling in the blood that rose readily from the wound. "My opinion has always mattered to you, Sasuke. More than anyone else's. More than Father's." He nearly spat the last sentence, twisting the kunai suddenly and slashing across Sasuke's collarbone. "You whored yourself out to the snake on the slim hope of him training you, and now you're too afraid to admit it."

The younger prided himself in the fact that he barely let out a hiss of pain at the first cut, though he still tried to press back against the floor to get away from it. He started to deny Itachi's words but the second motion drew a sharper hiss and his body attempted to twitch away on reflex as he set his jaw and glared. "He didn't want me to be weak from the beginning," he spat, narrowing his eyes further. "It wasn't a _slim hope_..."

Itachi dragged the blade down the pectoral muscle, nicking his nipple on the way down, expression still unchanged. "I forgot. He wanted you to have a strong body so he wouldn't become weak when he stole it for his own. I'm willing to bet you didn't even learn an eighth of his jutsu. You're still so weak."

Sasuke flinched this time, letting a short, but quiet gasp of pain filter into the air between them as Itachi's blade nicked sensitive flesh. This pain was nothing compared to what he'd gone through for the power he had now, though, and though he might have writhed when he was younger, he was used to a pain that burned far deeper than these shallow cuts. "You stole almost an entire year from me... You keep saying I'm weak but you haven't let me loose to _prove_ it, yet..."

"Because I enjoy seeing you bound and helpless.. but perhaps this _would_ be more fun.." Itachi reached behind him, undoing the knots and releasing the chains, pushing himself to a crouch and holding the kunai back. He'd stripped Sasuke of all weapons, of course.. he wanted to see what the boy could do, if he'd improved at _all_, anyway. _Perhaps someday..._

As soon as the ropes fell away, the younger Uchiha twisted into a crouch, scooting back a few feet and eyeing Itachi warily as he rubbed gently at his wrists. His ankles hurt a bit, too, but that pain was negligible, the sting on his wrists where the rope had rubbed the skin raw not too much worse. The thought crossed his mind to use the blood on his chest for a Kuchiyose, but he didn't exactly fancy his snakes getting killed.

A quick glance around the room revealed a sword rack in the corner and the chest Itachi had taken the kunai from that might hold more weapons, but Sasuke would have to get past his brother to reach them both, and he still wasn't sure if he was being toyed with. Two years had given him a slightly more level head, enough so that he didn't rush head-on into this fight, though he knew he would have ten minutes earlier.

He drew his thumb across one of the cuts on his chest, pondering. If he summoned Manda, it was possible that Itachi might lose, but not only did he need more training with that jutsu, but the snake _hated_ him, and he really didn't want to have to bother with all the sacrifices he knew would be asked for. Also, having a snake defeat his brother was incredibly less desirable than doing it himself, so that option was truly void. He could always use Chidori, but in a space this small it wasn't a very good option, either.

There were plenty of other jutsu he could use, though most wouldn't work too well in close quarters, either, and he found himself mildly frustrated. Genjutsu wouldn't work at all because of his brother's Sharingan, and he didn't know the difference in their speeds which made taijutsu a risky option as well. The more he thought about how to strike, the more annoyed he became with himself. Without his weapons, this was honestly just a bad place for a fight, and he glared, uncaring that his shirt hung mostly off and that the black fabric that had been at his waist was now pooled on the floor. "Not going to give me a weapon, are you..."

Itachi almost couldn't believe his ears. The insolent little... his brother had just gotten through claiming he was powerful, possibly powerful enough to kill him... then had the gall to ask him for a weapon. He narrowed his eyes, his psyche moving completely into a quiet, still, cold state where he could fight, and kill, without trouble. It was a skill he'd learned long, long ago, when he became a chuunin. "You're incapable of fighting without one? I'm almost sorry I released you. You really haven't improved at all." He said, very quietly. The boy's movements had improved, he had to admit, but while more fluid, they were still slow, and seemed more wild than graceful and controlled.

Though, the action before his words... Itachi eyed the blood smear across Sasuke's chest. He knew what it meant, though a Kuchiyose inside a house filled with criminals was an incredibly stupid idea. The action itself was almost sensual, though, and Itachi memorized it for later. Why did the sight of his brother's blood, so similar to his own, turn him on so much? It puzzled Itachi. He disliked the sight of his own blood, so why..?

Sasuke's eyes narrowed at his brother's words as he absently licked the blood off of his thumb. Now that he paid closer attention, he could sense several others in the area, which made the idea of using destructive jutsu even more ridiculous. Truly, hand to hand combat, with or without weapons, was the only way to go at this particular time if he wanted to keep it between the two of them. Even still, the space was incredibly cramped, which limited _everything_, and he was beginning to get exasperated. He didn't want to admit that this simply wasn't the time or place for it.

Something very unexpected happened, and Itachi found he was unprepared for it, which was silly, because when he was concentrated on a fight, he was often prepared for anything up to and including acts of God. Never before in a fight had he felt the first waves of desire lapping at the edges of his mind. For a moment he wondered if Sasuke was intentionally doing it. If so, the only solution was to ignore it. If not, though... what did it mean if it was unintentional?

Seduction aside, it was clear to Itachi that Sasuke could not or would not attack first. The thought of it annoyed him. He sprang from the tatami with no warning, moving behind Sasuke, catching one arm and twisting it around behind him again, using his momentum to shove the younger boy forward, on his knees and face pressed to the floor. He had to fight Sasuke.. he had to beat him senseless.. if he didn't, Itachi didn't know what he might do to his brother.

Though the younger had been cautious, his brother's speed and sudden movements caught him completely off guard, which irritated him even more than the slight sound of surprise he made. Even after everything he'd learned... It made him _furious_, and he twisted, trying to wrench his arm free and gain enough leverage to flip himself at the same time.

Itachi was mildy surprised at Sasuke's strength, but then again, the boy _had_ grown up. He used his weight to hold Sasuke down, though, his legs pinning Sasuke's to the ground. "You need to work on anticipating your enemy's movements. You're so easy to attack that it almost doesn't feel worth it." He murmured, leaning closer. His hips brushed against Sasuke's rear, and he pointedly ignored the flickers of sensation that the movement caused.

"_Bastard_..." Sasuke hissed, more angry at himself for being unable to avoid this than at the words Itachi spoke. Their closeness was uncomfortable to him, their position compromising at best, and he inwardly cursed himself for the slight heat he could feel rising to his cheeks. He pushed against the tatami with his free hand, still trying to force his brother off.

"You keep saying that, Sasuke.." Itachi replied coolly, twisting Sasuke's arm more. An idea was forming at the back of his mind, and he found he liked it. It would certainly be unexpected, and given his reaction earlier, probably far more interesting than just pummeling the boy into a coma. He thrust his hips against his prisoner's once more, smirk returning to his lips, though Sasuke couldn't see it. "I don't think you know just how much of a bastard I can be."

The younger Uchiha let out a small, choked noise as his arm was twisted more painfully, gritting his teeth against it, his fingers practically digging into the tatami. What happened next was unexpected, though he probably should have seen it coming, and he nearly recoiled with disgust. He even went so far as to actually contemplate summoning a smaller snake just to distract his brother long enough to get out of this position.

"You're not worth the effort of fighting or killing..." Itachi hissed, dropping the kunai and reaching around to drag his fingernails down Sasuke's chest, in an effort to draw out some reaction. "But perhaps I could have fun with you anyway..."

Rather than listen to Itachi's words, Sasuke focused on the dropped kunai. If he could reach it, he could--a choked sound of pain left his throat as nails scraped across one of the shallow cuts on his chest, efficiently halting his train of thought for a second before his free hand went for the kunai.

Itachi caught the movement, and before Sasuke could grab the dropped blade, he'd caught the boy's arm and twisted it as well behind his back, leaning close enough to murmur in Sasuke's ear. "Good, Sasuke... you've gotten a little better. But it's not enough, and I am losing patience." He thrust again, the layers of fabric between them providing both friction and frustration. "This bores me, otouto.. I want to hear you _scream_..."

Sasuke grit his teeth, cheek pressed uncomfortably against the tatami. The feel of Itachi's hips moving against him was almost sickening. What was even more sickening was the thought that if he pretended it wasn't his brother, it didn't necessarily _feel_ all that bad. "Too fucking bad! I'm not the _child_ I once was!" he hissed, trying to twist free again.

He flipped Sasuke onto his side, grabbing the rope and tying the boy's wrists again. Yes... seeing him bound and helpless did something to Itachi, that he couldn't quite explain. He just knew that a part of him wanted to possess, control, and completely _break_ Sasuke. He grabbed the boy's neck, pushing him onto his back, intent on his new goal. "Good. I'd be disgusted if you were."

A vehement glare was the response the younger gave as he impulsively struggled with his bindings once more. Seeing as his legs were no longer restrained, he tried to twist his body enough that he could attempt to get in a decent kick. Any opening he could get would do at this point, as long as he managed _something_.

Itachi narrowed his eyes, backhanding the boy across the face. His fear and anger and struggling were becoming annoying. He knelt between Sasuke's legs, undoing the button and chuckling. "I can see why he made you wear it.."

Sasuke's cheek stung, but he continued to glare defiantly, though it was offset a bit by the slight blush painting his cheeks. "Pervert..." he spat, though he was otherwise still, forcing away the unwanted thoughts that rose at the sight of Itachi between his legs. There was honestly no denying his brother's good looks. Beautiful, but hated and wrong, and his own thoughts made him feel _sick_.

Itachi was well aware of his beauty, and had always prided himself in it. As he gazed over Sasuke, he noted that the boy was just as beautiful, though strangely in a more effeminate way. It was almost a pity to destroy that illusion, but it had to be done in order to reach his goal. Nearly tearing the pants open, he pulled the loose fabric roughly off Sasuke's hips, smirking. "No more a pervert than your former master, Sasuke."

This time, the younger finally tore his glare away from Itachi, focusing it instead on something to his right. He shivered slightly at the cool air against his skin, trying not to think about his situation. Several things were hissed under his breath at that point, none of them really loud enough to be heard clearly.

"I was unaware you were so interested in Heian-era screens, otouto." Itachi murmured, reaching over and picking up the kunai once more. He drew it slowly across Sasuke's chest, watching the blood well up and licking his lips.

Sasuke's eyes narrowed down to crimson slits, nothing more than a slow hiss through clenched teeth escaping him in response to Itachi's actions. The pain was, again, negligible, and his brother's words didn't _matter_. He wasn't going to give the man the satisfaction of anything else.

It was clear to Itachi that the boy was unwilling to respond. He was quickly becoming frustrated with it, too. Grabbing Sasuke's chin, he closed his eyes momentarily, before opening them again to reveal the Mangekyou Sharingan, then the world dissolved into a sea of black and red, the room around them unchanging. In fact, little changed outwardly besides the color and lighting, which now came from a blood-red moon outside the window, but in truth, Itachi had altered a lot. For one, he'd slightly altered Sasuke's sensory perception, and for another, he'd moved the chest from the screen closer to him. _Much better._

Suddenly, the cuts on Sasuke's chest and his chafed wrists stung that much more, and his eyes remained narrowed for a different reason, a quiet, choked sound escaping his throat as he gritted his teeth and tried to adjust to this new level of sensation. The chill in the room now felt almost like opening the freezer in winter and he was shivering because of it. Everything around him was more intense than it had been before; he could _hear_ each breath Itachi took, the slide of fabric with each movement he made, the _smell_ of his own sweat and the soap his brother had used when he'd bathed.

He had to remember that this world belonged to Itachi, and that automatically put him in a spot he was loath to be in. Being his brother's prisoner was one thing; being in his brother's prison was something else entirely.

Itachi drew the blade very slowly up Sasuke's abdomen, watching the way the muscles danced under the kunai, chuckling softly to himself. This was what he'd been waiting for. He could feel himself hardening at the sight, his breaths deep and slow as he stopped the kunai, turning it a few times before dragging it lightly across Sasuke's neck, too light to draw blood.

The younger could hear the faint scrape of the kunai against his skin, but even stronger was the sensation it caused. The feeling was something strange that he'd never felt before, almost tickling and on the verge of stinging. He heard his own gasp almost distantly, shuddered at the sound of it and tried desperately to remember that this world _wasn't real_.

It was surprising what just watching someone's reactions could do to a man. Itachi credited himself as a master of self-control, as the kunai danced over Sasuke's skin, slicing faint lines over ghostly-white flesh, every gasp and slight movement making him just want more. He finally paused, gazing down at him, watching with heated eyes and finally setting the kunai to the side.

By now, Sasuke's breaths were coming slightly quicker and not always steady, and he stared up at Itachi with wide eyes. This was _wrong_, but whatever Itachi had done had made everything impossible to ignore and he couldn't deny the way it made him twitch and writhe. The thought of it feeling _good_ was a sickening thing to touch on, but something he couldn't help. His skin tingled everywhere the kunai had touched almost as if it were still there, and he swallowed thickly, hissing at the man above him, "What the hell are you _doing_ to me!?"

"Testing you." Itachi replied, his voice low and very quiet. He let his eyes wander over the thin red lines again, licking his lips and altering the Tsukiyomi slightly; this slight deviation of the technique was risky, and the last time he'd tried it, it had recoiled on him badly and left him comatose for days. _But he doesn't have what it takes to make it recoil, not yet, and especially not in this state..._

The world around them rippled as if made by water, and the sensations were suddenly magnified for Itachi as well; he had changed the illusion so he could actually move and manipulate Sasuke's body, instead of just his image in the genjutsu. Praying that Sasuke really wasn't able to fight it, he lifted the younger man's hips, pulling off his boxers and tossing them aside. With a soft chuckle, he caressed the arousal before him, somewhat amused. _Already this aroused.. and I'm not done yet..._

Sasuke started to make a snappy retort to Itachi's words when the world shifted, making his head spin for a moment. The next thing he was aware of (and _very_ aware of, at that) was the sound of his own quiet moan, loud in his ears, and the way his hips bucked just slightly of their own accord. The sensation itself made it almost hard to think, hard to remember that he didn't want it.

"But you do want it. You always have. You just convinced yourself you didn't." Itachi whispered, wrapping his fingers around the hot muscle and squeezing gently. He desired attention too, but knew he would just have to wait. "Surrender to me, Sasuke.."

"N-no..." The younger shook his head, eyes shut tightly. A deep blush painted his cheeks and he let out a sharp gasp, biting his lip til it bled to try and stifle the whimpering moan that followed. Once more his hips moved on their own and he turned his head to the side. "I won't..."

"Yes you will. And you'll do so loudly and passionately, and never recant it." Itachi smirked, his fingernails dancing across hot skin, leaning closer to catch Sasuke's lips between his own, licking the blood away. "Either way, I will get what I want..."

A shuddering groan left Sasuke's lips as he fought the urge to follow the sensation of Itachi's lips and tongue. His entire body felt like it was on fire, every touch kindling the flame and he was fighting a losing battle with his senses. "S-stop..."

"What a foolish request." Itachi replied, biting and sucking on the younger boy's lower lip roughly. His hand continued to move over the younger's arousal, alternately gentle and rough, always teasing. He could feel the throb of the other's pulse in his hand, and it made him only want more.

Sasuke was fast losing himself in the intensity of the pleasure due to his heightened senses in this world that was too real but not real at all. He could barely hear anything beyond the blood pounding in his ears and he _squirmed_, wanting more but not and wanting to pull Itachi closer and push him away at the same time. He was breaking and he knew it, more and more with each gasp and each moan that left his throat uninhibited.

With a cruel smile, Itachi released him and drew his hand away, their mouths separating as he sat up once more, gazing over his captive again. The flushed skin, soft gasps, and tremors... he couldn't help but feel proud to be the reason for all this. He pushed the kimono off his shoulders, feeling the silk slide down his back and pool around his legs. He was beautiful and powerful, and knew it, though at the moment, Sasuke was quite beautiful as well.

A soft cry of protest sounded as Itachi pulled away, the younger Uchiha shuddering at the loss of contact. The one thing this pause did give him was the chance to think again, eyes opening the slightest bit to focus on the man before him. He quickly averted his gaze again, but not before catching an eyeful of bare skin. _This is wrong..._ he told himself, repeatedly. _He's using the Tsukiyomi to make me want this... I don't want it..._ Swallowing thickly, he licked his lips, already dry from panting, his voice barely above a whisper. "Don't..touch me..."

"Why not? You clearly want more. Your body is begging for it. I almost hate to refuse it." Itachi purred, drawing one hand up his own chest slowly. his desire-filled eyes narrowing. "The more your mind resists, the more your body wants it... why should you deny it?" Reaching down with his free hand, he took Sasuke's chin and turned his head, until the boy had no choice but to look at him. "See? This is what you want."

"No..." Sasuke swallowed again, trembling at Itachi's touch. "You're doing this to me... You're in my _head_!" he whispered, not trusting his voice any higher. He knew his eyes had to be as clouded with lust as his mind was, despite his efforts. "I.._don't_..."

"You do. You'll admit it soon enough." Itachi pushed the kimono off entirely, shivering as the cold air chilled his naked, muscular frame. He continued to hold Sasuke's head still, reaching down and brushing his fingers against himself, taking a deep breath. The sensations sent sparks of pleasure through his body, and he stroked himself more, his eyes slipping half-closed. "Do you really think you can resist this?" He whispered, the deep, silky tone of his voice unwavering.

Another thick swallow was the only response Sasuke gave, trying to avoid looking _down_. Unfortunately, this meant staring at Itachi's face, and the look in those eyes made him shiver. Wanting to block it out, he averted his gaze, but was still able to see what he didn't want to see out of the corners of his eyes. He didn't want to think about how incredibly erotic it was, and he tried to crane his head back from his brother's grasp, shutting his eyes tightly before looking away was no longer an option.

So frustrating... Itachi released Sasuke's jaw and grabbed his hair instead, yanking his head up and pulling the black locks, the pace of his strokes unchanging. His muscles tensed, and he shivered, suddenly pulling his hand away and reaching into the small nearly-forgotten chest, drawing out a small bottle of massage oil from previous experiments. Uncorking the bottle, he poured a small puddle into his hand, setting the bottle aside and stroking himself once again. The oil only made him shiver more, and he licked his lips, looking down at the younger man through narrowed eyes. "Sasuke..."

The younger clenched his eyes shut tighter, letting out something close to a whimper at the slight pain caused by Itachi pulling his hair, though the _sounds_ he heard made his body tremble slightly. He knew what had to come next, and the small part of his brain that still thought rationally blanched. The sound of his name from his brother's lips shouldn't have made his stomach do flips like it did, but he knew his body had already given in and wanted more. As he opened his eyes again to look up at his captor--his torturer, his brother, his undoing--he knew his mind would soon follow, if the shuddering groan that left his lips was any indication.

Itachi pulled his hand away from himself once more, slick fingers reaching out to rub Sasuke's arousal, and he leaned closer, licking the blood from his otouto's lips once more. The boy was certainly taking his time, but then, Itachi had all the time in the world at the moment. His fingers slid from the needy muscle down, quickly finding his goal, and he opened his eyes, giving Sasuke one last chance.

The moment those fingers touched him again, Sasuke was gone all over again, a faint, whimpering moan falling easily from his lips as he craned his neck in some attempt to follow Itachi's mouth. Sin was forgotten in that moment, his mind too clouded with lust to think of anything else until those fingers moved away--down--and he was left with a moment of sudden, _blinding_ clarity.

His brother was going to _rape_ him, and he was going to _like_ it. Whatever Itachi had done to him he was going to like it, enough that he might even scream the man's name just like he'd probably want to hear it. At this point, he was almost certain he would even beg for more, and the look in his eyes betrayed the underlying _fear_ and _desperation_ and the wish for it all to _stop_ and _don't stop_ all at the same time. He couldn't have found his voice to save his life.

A dark chuckle escaped his lips, and Itachi pulled his mouth away, watching Sasuke's expressions carefully as he pushed, his own mind perfectly clear of the implications of it all. He felt as though he were watching it from very far away, merely observing Sasuke's reactions, his own movements as slow and methodical as torture. The younger boy seized up under him, and he narrowed his eyes, withdrawing and returning with two fingers, not really concerned with the possibility of hurting Sasuke; after all, wasn't this whole evening an exercise in mental torture and punishment, that Itachi just happened to find extremely enjoyable?

Sasuke's trained instinct once the pain hit was to relax, but the small part of him that still resisted made that difficult. It didn't hurt quite bad enough to make him cry out, but it was enough to make him whimper. His eyes stung briefly with tears that refused to be shed, but when fingers brushed that spot inside him he couldn't say _no_, couldn't say _stop_ and didn't _want_ to. His eyelids fluttered with the sensation, and the only word coming from barely parted lips was _Itachi_.

His experience in these things was limited, but Itachi was a very fast learner, and Sasuke's responses were more than enough to tell him what he was doing right. Shaking his hair out of his face, he moved to the younger's shoulder, biting the pale skin gently. He added another finger, biting down harder at the realization that there was little he needed to do to prepare Sasuke for what was next. The implications of that made him pull Sasuke's hair again, fingernails scratching the boy's scalp.

Shuddering, the younger dug his nails into the tatami below his bound hands, letting out a choked whimper of pain upon the intrusion of the third finger. The whimper grew into a sharp cry at the feel of teeth digging into his shoulder and he squirmed beneath Itachi, the border between pain and pleasure not defining itself quite right. This time, when his brother pulled his hair, the way fingernails scratched almost made him want to purr.

Itachi wasn't sure why Sasuke's cry made his heart pound suddenly. He pulled his hand away, hooking his arms around the younger man's legs and releasing his shoulder, briefly glimpsing the red welt he'd left behind. Pushing one of Sasuke's legs over his shoulder, he reached down, casting one last dark look, both lustful and hateful, to his captive before guiding himself and slowly, almost torturously, pushing in.

_This is what you wanted. This is what you've always wanted, isn't it?_

Sasuke let out a choked whimper at the slow, burning pleasure-pain of being filled, completely unaware of the way the leg curled over Itachi's shoulder tried to pull the older man closer, deeper. He was _painfully_ aware of the sudden need to have his arms free and the _maddening_ urge to tug and pull and claw red lines down his brother's back. He was aware of the desire to tangle his fingers in black silk and not let go until that mouth devoured his and he could hear, see, taste, smell, _feel_ nothing but _Itachi_ and it didn't matter how wrong it was, because he couldn't bring himself to care.

He finally stopped when he could move no more, his breaths slow and shallow, his mind whirling from the sensations. Distantly, Itachi could feel Sasuke's heel digging into his back, could hear his whimpers and see him squirming, but it all felt as if he were disconnected from the world he'd created. As if an afterthought, he realized how dangerous it was, and moved to pull out and release him, but the sensations just moving sparked through the lower half of his body sent chills up his spine and made the genjutsu ripple again. Desire for total control of the situation and instinct to forget all and focus solely on the beauty before him battled in his mind, and growling softly, he took Sasuke's hips and drew out of him, thrusting back in roughly, nails digging crescents into pale skin and a soft groan escaping his lips.

Instinct led his hips to move back against Itachi's even as a shuddering moan left his lips and Sasuke was distantly aware of the sound of a voice, rough with desire. "Untie me..." it said, and he barely recognized it as his own, "I...tachi..." broken and pleading, "...please..." _Let me touch you... Give me more... Please..._

Though Itachi could hear the words, he couldn't really act on them. His control was slipping and he knew it, by the way the world rippled around them. Only fear of the Tsukiyomi recoiling on his mind kept him from losing it. Instinct kept him moving, though, falling into a steady rhythm, their heartbeats loud in Itachi's ears. Distantly, he could hear himself growl out Sasuke's name, his voice low and quiet, but somehow so loud between them.

The younger answered to his name with a low moan that escalated sharply into a near-cry when Itachi hit that spot inside him, gone with the pleasure to the point that nothing else mattered. In this world of heightened senses the wave would break too soon and he wanted it as much as he didn't want it to stop, his brother's name a sin flowing from his lips in broken gasps and pleading moans. It felt better than anything in the world, so good he could have _died_ and he wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted so bad it _hurt_. _More, gods, **more**!_

He could feel it, the tense tremors moving swiftly through his body, and Itachi held them back, the blood rushing in his ears. The rhythm was slowly breaking, and it was his fault; he found himself moving faster, harder, his knuckles turning white, his vision fading in and out. He could hear himself, very faintly, groaning out Sasuke's name once again, the syllables falling from his lips brokenly. Everything suddenly felt far beyond his control, as if he'd stepped across a line long ago and was now helpless to the consequences. It was not a feeling he enjoyed, but he found himself unable to stop, even if he wanted to.

It all happened too fast, the wave cresting and breaking over him with a force that shook him to his core, and Sasuke _did_ scream, screamed Itachi's name as he came so hard his nerves could barely _handle_ it, all over himself. His brother hadn't even had to _touch_ him. All he could see was white, unable to tell whether his eyes were open or closed, unable to think long enough to remember anything other than _Itachi_.

He gasped, his throat dry, his body seeming to move of its own accord, and Itachi lost himself as well, drowning in a sea of shuddering breaths and a deep pleasure that spread through his body and left everything relaxed and trembling in its wake. Around them, the Tsukiyomi rippled again, then began dissolving, the colors bleeding into one another and swirling around them. Itachi found he had just enough control to dispel the genjutsu the rest of the way. He winced, feeling utterly drained as he slowly stopped moving, releasing Sasuke's hips and pulling out of him, long limbs buckling as he fell to the side on the tatami.

The sudden drop in the world's intensity pulled Sasuke almost violently back down from his euphoria, a sudden, intense shudder racking his frame. Once the fog of pleasure had receded, however, the brutal reality of what had just occured hit him full force, digging its talons into his mind and _tearing_. If there was a sound for the way he broke in that instant it would have echoed loud in the silence of the room. As it were, if one listened close enough, they might have heard the tears that he couldn't feel leaking from soulless eyes and dripping onto the tatami.

To Itachi, the first few moments after sex were always an ethereal, beautiful thing. He lay on his side, long black hair fanned out around him, watching his fingertips twitch as his body rested and returned to its normal, perfectly calm, unfazed state. Those few moments were marred, though, by the realization that it was Sasuke laying next to him, and that the boy appeared to be crying. With a frown, Itachi reviewed the past hour or so, before deciding that this outcome was satisfactory anyway.

_Hate me. Detest me. Run. Run and cling to life. Then someday, come before me with these same eyes and kill me._

Itachi closed his eyes, pulling his kimono over himself and sighing into the soft fabric. The wheels of fate had been sidetracked momentarily, it seemed, but his plan was back on track afterall.

* * *

So? Love it? Hate it? Let me know, but do it constructively. Flat out flaming is just not right.  



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